


It's Not That Unusual

by Quill_of_Thoth



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ficlets, Fluff, Footnotes almost as long as the fic itself, M/M, Memes are infernal, Public nuisance Crowley, gratuitous mistreatment of jukeboxes, mildly disapproving Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 08:06:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quill_of_Thoth/pseuds/Quill_of_Thoth
Summary: An angel walked into a pub.A pub in which Crowley had intended to cause some totally demonic minor annoyance any second now.





	It's Not That Unusual

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spider_Lilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spider_Lilly/gifts).

An angel walked into a pub. Normally, this would be the setup for a joke, but this was Aziraphale and Go- Sa- _ Somebody_ only knew why he was bothering with a place that definitively only sold beer, meat pie, and things that had been fried.

The fact that Crowley was there too, was for once, a complete coincidence.[1]

“Oh! Hello my dear,” said Aziraphale, while Crowley tried to play it cool and ended up choking on his IPA. “Is this where you’ve been going out to in the evenings?”

“Ngk,” said Crowley, who absolutely did not have beer foam coming out of his mouth, “Sometimes. Didn’t expect to see you here, though, Angel. Doesn’t seem like your kind of crowd.”

Aziraphale beamed. “A book dealer told me I should try these ‘microbrews’ that everyone seems so fond of. And the flyer said there would be a band later. Is that why you’re here?” He looked around at the slightly crowded pub, with a jukebox playing in one corner and a full compliment of unsuspecting, currently good-natured humans.

Crowley’s intended amusement for the evening had involved music and alcohol, but it had _ definitely _ not involved a would-be rock band made of local students.

“Ah, not exactly-”

_"What’s new pussycat? Whoa, whoa whoa -” _

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. Then he looked at the students, preparing for their set, who were staring incredulously at the jukebox, which only got louder with every line. Then he looked at the jukebox, which was clearly feeling its age, but trumpeting along unapolagetically anyway.

Then he looked back at Crowley.

“Really, my dear?” he asked, as the student band got up and started investigating the jukebox.[2]

“It’s all bebop to you anyway,” Crowley replied with a sigh, throwing down £10 and standing up.[3] “You won’t like the set. Too much synth. Fancy a walk instead?”

They left arm in arm as the students’ attempts to stop the jukebox produced a loud, Tom-Jonesy trumpet squeaking, which got the whole pub up out of their seats.

_"It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone -” _

The door shut behind them and cut off the sound of three would-be rockers and everyone else in the pub trying to remember how to turn off a jukebox.

* * *

  1. In the early days there had been fewer humans overall, so it was easier to bump into each other. Later Heaven and Hell had been in pretty good agreement about what needed the attention of their earthly agents, and after the arrangement “funny meeting you here,” had become code for “I absolutely expected you to be here and have already found some alcohol.”  

  2. Mostly by shaking it and grumbling about how old memes never seemed to die.  

  3. Over tipping, with intent to cause envy among the rest of the waitstaff, is properly demonic.

**Author's Note:**

> _What’s New Pussycat?_ was written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach, originally sung by Tom Jones, and memeticized by John Mulaney in _The Salt and Pepper Diner._
> 
> _It’s Not Unusual_ was the work of Les Reed, Gordon Mills and Tom Jones.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to Spider_Lilly. I blame you, Lilly. All the blame. I wrote songfic because of you! (Sort of Songfic. Mostly because of you.)


End file.
